The Sightless
by amazonherb
Summary: I'm terrible with summaries, The Sightless and Flick continue their onslaught on Earth, can Jack save his friends and stop them with no casualties, of course War doesn't help. (Starts off as M rating may get worse!)
1. Chapter 1

AN: Apologies for the delay in getting this going, It is little different from the taster I posted: Enjoy and please review, the story gets hungry

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Book 2: The Sightless

August 1908

"It was believed that there was only one, they didn't see the other as the two fought in the upper atmosphere. Both were damaged beyond repair, both came down miles from any civilisation, One crashed near the Podkamennaya Tunkguska River, its occupant being flung from the ship as it fought the pull of a time rift. The sentient ship's last concern was to self-destruct instead of being ripped through time, only to end up somewhere that it would not be useful or treasured. Its actions split the sky in two and fire appeared high and wide over the forest; its airburst flattened the forest around it for hundreds of miles. It appeared like a second sun before the sudden time rift swallowed it whole, consigning it's remains to time. The closest people to see the ship were frightened, believing that the world was on the verge of coming to an end, yet as suddenly as it came, bringing the thunder and the winds filled with fire and heat it stopped, leaving only a streaming blackness disappearing into the pale sunrise. Life returned to its normal struggle, until a week later one man stumbled into their village, echo's of burns across his skin, his the whole of his eyes nothing but a dark iris. In broken Russian he told them of the asteroid coming down, and his hunting grounds destroyed. After a month the man left, his burns completely healed. All his injuries were gone, except his eyes. They never healed; they were always completely dark. Within a few months most of the village forgot about him, within a few years, they only remembered the day the fire winds came, bringing with them a second sun.

The men in the compound, Watched the descent of the second ship as best as they could, but even then they didn't see the smaller ship escape from the pull of its mother and soar over the horizon to escape the Thar desert desperate to escape the pull of the ship and its doomed landing. As the ship tore through the atmosphere it sonic boom shook everything; sand dunes became flattened The sentient ship fretted, it had been invaded, it had been used to chase down another ship, and its files had been decoded. The battle damage had been extensive, it jettisoned its wrapthal drive which buried itself deep in the sand, coming to a halt deep below ground finally resting within a maze of natural caves. Without the drive the ship had little time its death would be swift. Within minutes its systems stopped. Its last breath was a scream of engines as they ploughed into the sand.

There was nothing but sand between the compound and the rest of the world. Even the ancient cities of the valley were memories of the sand, remnants of old civilisations were flung into the sky as the thing crashed, burying itself into the desert. The sand that it had flung up in the crash rained back down as gravity retook a hold, till eventually only a mound of a strange shape was left visible.

That was until those from the compound went out in the direction the noise came from. They dragged tools and barrows; machines not known yet to the rest of the world and strange things that clicked and beeped when swung over the found the mound and excavated. The dirty silver of the thing frightened the men, and excited the scientists, posted at the compound. The compound was a place where understanding was supposed to be the mainstay of their profession; until their discovery under the mound of sand changed it all.

They brutally entered the crashed space ship, and ripped out what they could carry. Then they found the visual records. Their reports back to base excited their masters and new orders came back. London wanted what this ship had shown was possible and they were to ensure London got what it wanted, and London always got what it wanted.

~~oOo~~

June 1912

Bethlem Asylum that is what it felt like here, that decaying, insane place. He'd been once, visiting one of the other agents. They had preferred the madness of that place rather than going to Holding. What did it matter, they were both a type of prison; you just got a better type of conversation at Belthem. Holding for all its faults and the sane men that ran it was not a patch on this hell.

How did he get here and why was he here. Currently he couldn't remember. They thought he was a spy of some sort that much he knew. All he could think about was here and now, and how to get out.

As he was being dragged down the long filthy corridor to his cell he scanned the long corridors. Dim light came from somewhere above them. The stench of rotten flesh mingled with the smell of human waste. He could hear the cries of the damned cutting through thoughts. He realised he was joining in the cry. He hurt, Gods above how he hurt. He thought his jaw may have been broken, but his own rapid healing was dealing with that, painfully. He'd come to realise he would always hurt when he healed. He fought against the pull, but the guards were twice his size and strength. He twisted and pulled against them trying to escape the clawing clutches of the guards. He felt a hand slip down his arm and turned his head to bite, only to receive a brutal blow to the side of his head. He felt the grip lessen momentarily and used it to his advantage. Their grip gave way and he slipped down, he twisted as he fell so he was able to race back up the corridor to any-where but here.

His feet slipped on the reason for the smell, propelling him forward into the pungent smells of the cells run offs. He managed to regain his footing, taking off into the corridor; the whining cries became shouts of encouragement as he fled. He glanced behind him, the guards were ambling towards him as though out for a leisurely stroll, occasionally backhanding the outstretched hands of the occupants of the cells. He turned a corner slamming into a closed door. He couldn't remember being dragged through the door originally. He fumbled with the handle and eventually wrenched the door open and slipped through, slamming it behind him on the faces of the two guards. He was in a darkened room; a single small window at the end of the room illuminated a desk. Behind the desk was a man; with his back to the door as he looked at the charts on the wall behind the desk. From the rear Jack could tell that this uniform was immaculate and well cut. A brooding muddy grey green only highlighted by the epaulets which bore the rank of General. The tip of the cane, in his right hand was headed with a skull which gleamed in the dull light. He toyed with it idly as he spoke. His voice was smooth, well spoken, and soft. The accent impossible to place, yet somewhere in Jacks memory he could remember the voice.

"Welcome Jack, I wondered when you would find your way back to me. They all do, eventually; all of their own free will, each wanting to give up all their little secrets, but yours is so much bigger than all of their little secrets isn't it?"

"Who are you?" Jack kept his back to the wall, searching for a way out of the room.

"Your friend and constant companion Jack, I am the silent voice in the back of your head. I am the gatherer of your secrets Jack. You really should be more grateful Jack, I gave you the oblivion you sought, a roof over your head and a reason to live, not to exist."

The man turned and slammed the cane down on the desk making him jump, "Until you give up each and every one of your secrets you belong here. You, my Captain, are ours"

Jack recognised the figure of Flick Ruathan. He hadn't changed too much in the years since they had last met. His now greying hair was slicked back away from his face a neat pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. The same tight smile that never reached his eyes, but those eyes had changed, they were no longer the serious blue eyes of an old time agent. These were simply pools of black. This man who had figured so much in his recent past, was a man living on borrowed time, man who shouldn't be here, but locked up tight in the 51st century's high security prison otherwise known as Holding. Jack's replying snarl was stopped midway as when Flick spoke a transformation came across him. Jack remembered a woman trying to scream in pain as thick black stiches made their way across her eyes and mouth.

"You know me Jack, Friends to the end weren't we. Where is it? Where did you hide it?" The last question was snarled through an almost closed mouth, thick stiches pulling it awkwardly closed.

"Sightless" Jack hissed, much to the enjoyment of the creature that now stood in front of him. Words entered his mind, without ever meeting his ears

"You are to be ours now, willingly or…" The words stopped as a heavy knock was heard against the oak door before it was opened. The two guards stood there waiting. In the moment that it took Jack to look from the sightless to the guards and back, the thing had returned to back to Flick who simply nodded to the two men before saying;

"Take him boys, and let the devil out of this one, you know how it likes to play with the mind"

~~oOo~~

Jack was dragged bodily back through the stinking mess he'd previously escaped from and bodily thrown into another room. The light in here was intense, he guarded his eyes until they became used to the light. In the centre of the room was a chair.

"Ah the best room in the house for me? This place looks wonderful, lovely blood splatters. Artistically done, comfy too"

The biggest guard backhanded him into silence.

A simple high backed wooden chair had been placed in the middle of the room, from its wooden arms dangled two leather straps. The seat was padded, and extending from the bottom crossbar was a set of what could only be classes as wooden restraints for the feet. Jack had seen this chair before, they'd used it a lot in Beltham when the agents had been rambling about their work. The Doctors had believed it to be insanity but Jack knew better, he'd sit there and listen to them before slipping small doses of retcon into their liquid, till eventually the dosage would wipe out their minds completely, leaving them nothing more than a grown child with nightmares. it had been used across the ages to calm people, but it was missing the blinding box where they encased the head in linen, so no sound, and no light could enter and cause further disturbance to the mind. He looked around the room and noticed a wooden table. A cloth covered whatever was on the table hiding everything from view. Jack was forced into the chair, his chest, stomach and arms bound by thick leather straps. His feet placed into the wooden restraints; each strap tightened until he could only move his head. He felt the strong hands of the guard against his temples forcing his head straight. Another strap was placed around his head, pulling it back against the headrest. A gag was placed into his mouth, stifling his cries and shouts. It was then they placed a box over his head. A box was the wrong word for it… there was only half a lid, towards the front of the box he could feel a draft gently blowing on his forehead and the top of his head. The inside of the box was stuffed with linen, trying to make it as dark and as silent as possible. He could just see at the top of his vision a slight light. Within the confines of the linen he could smell a sweet smell, he started feeling dizzy with each inhalation. His hearing already muted by the linen became disjointed. With each further breath his heart fluttered. Then suddenly the box was taken off. A face appeared in front of him, studying him, looking intensely into his drooping eyes. The man looked to the guard behind and nodded. An excruciating pain came from the top of his head and his forehead; blood ran down into his eyes. Jack was happy to let the natural instincts of his body take over, unable to take the pain anymore as he passed out his last thoughts were "How the hell did I end up here?"

~~oOo~~

The water was freezing, he came back with a jolt as it drenched him face first. He shook the water out of his face scrunched up his eyes. They were still there, those women, the silent ones; just staring, watching him.

"When I said get a room I meant one with linen!" He cried out angrily before closing his eyes as he shook his head trying to get the water out of his face, He looked up again a different, yet still familiar face looked down at him,

"WHAT?!"

He breathed deeply, before looking in to her eyes

"Never mind, I was dreaming"

"Gathered that." She held out her hand "Are you coming or what?"

"No it's just the way I'm… "

"Don't bother. Do you want to stay here or leave?"

She counted under her breath"… 75… 76… 78…"

Jack rose quickly and hugged her. "It's nice to see a friendly face"

"Shut up and get behind the door… 85…86"

Just as he stood behind the door it swung open almost hitting him in the face.

The women smiled as a guard barrelled in then fell back as she opened fire. Both barrels of her pistol silently spat the spinning bullets that pierced the guards armour.

"We have 5 more minutes to get out of this compound, before he finds me here."

"What? How does he know you're here?"

"I left him a note. It's more… sporting this way."

Jack nodded in agreement then grabbed her hand and they ran through the catacombs. Cries and shouts for help fell behind them as they raced out. They were blown through double doors into the bright sunlight as a huge explosion ripped through the tunnels.

The blast threw them to the ground, and there they lay curled on the floor covering their heads as debris showered down on them. Once everything had settled Jack stood before pulling bits of debris out of his hair.

"This note you left… Was it attached to anything… anything explosive by any chance?" he asked

She sat up and wiped the dirt from the side of her face,

"It did have that sort of quality about it." she admitted

"So… he'll be dead, and so will all the others in that godforsaken place?" He could feel his temper rise. She had just murdered 50 people, innocent of everything, except being different to the norm.

She shrugged. "He won't be dead, the others will be though. He needed to know he's lost"

Jack stood and glared and the others?"

"I know what was happening in there Jack. They're better off being dead than what he was putting them through"

And that was?

"Sorry Jack. That would be Spoilers. You know we can't tell you that." She looked intently at his forehead and the blood encrusted wound that was starting to heal.

"What the hell did they do to you? Do you know you have a rather large hole in your forehead?"

Jack nodded, "They were letting out the devil apparently"

"I have a feeling it didn't work" They continued to walk away in silence from the crater she'd created; the side of the hill slowly collapsing in on itself, burying everything.

"Where have you been these last 13 years? Home or back up there?" He motioned to the sky.

"Busy" she replied shortly

Ah. Her tone had made it clear she didn't want to talk about the years between their separation. Their split had be friendly, almost loving, she'd been with him a long time. Stuck there in his head with no other company but his own memories.

"I never thanked you for what you did in there" he tapped the side of his head. "You saved me from me"

"I saved more than you will know Jack, you'll figure out what it is a long time into the future but your thanks is enough for now. Now walk with me and tell me what has happened to you."

Their walk took them down the hills into the centre of Cardiff. With each step of the way he told her of his attempts to find the doctor, and then how he joined- albeit as an unwilling, un-contracted person,- the small band of strange people known as Torchwood.

He knew that occasionally either Alice or Emily would somehow try to kill him, just because they could, or he'd managed to annoy them somehow possibly by simply breathing.

She listened as they talked, occasionally nodding or moving her hair away from her eyes as the wind started to play gently, pushing at both the dust and her hair with the dust on the road.

"Where's Cornelia?" he finally asked.

"Funeral"

"Oh?"

"Her Husbands."

Jack stopped in his tracks as his heart momentarily leapt. "So Hart is dead?"

"Gods no. No one knows where he is. He disappeared from the radars. None of the contacts have seen him for years. You remember Semyon? The man who sat with you after the explosion in the hotel? The man who sat beside the broken body of Cornelia when she came back from the Halls of the Dead? He was her husband. A husband of Convenience, after all this is only the start of the 20th century, you can't have a woman wandering around the planet on her own. They may spontaneously combust or damage something. He died in the riot outside the church in Tarascon, along with seventeen others. Only the Father managed to escape. Do you know that old man was an Atsoc? He's on the run now, trying to hide from your rather select little group you are working for.

I don't know how you did it, Jack but the stuff you said to Renon really set him going. He has a way with words, he can speak to peoples fear and hatred for difference and make them act on it. The church burned Jack, even the windows. The glass guardian was just about saved, but it won't work anymore. They can't animate it, there is no protector there now; The Magdalen is on her own now."

"I'm sorry Phire but I have absolutely no idea of what you are talking about, I haven't been to France since I was under the influence of…"

She turned angrily. "Jack you weren't under the influence… you can say the word. It's not a hard word. You were an addict... You did things that you would never dream of doing now"

She sighed before continuing "Things are happening Jack, I've seen them, Hate and fear are spreading like wildfire. The Sightless love it here, and they want this world to burn. Someone is helping them too. Every time I investigate it leads to just one person"

"Flick?"

She shook her head.. "It's you Jack, You are the link between them."

~oOo~

Jack stood still as Phire walked ahead. "I can't be I've been here in that godforsaken place. I've been kept for about two years. London found out about my gift, Torchwood had to give me up, Goodness knows how many times I died for their research."

Phire returned to him, reached out and took hold of Jack's hand. mmediately the link between them reopened. She stormed into his memories. The old mansion stood solid still, the old disturbing swamp that had originally invaded him when he was addicted to the fratican was no longer there. A long sweeping driveway lined by willows stood inviting and harmless looking. She knew better though, she'd helped to plant them along with the traps they hid before she had killed him. With one fluid movement she was at the big solid wooden door. But the door of his protected place was nothing to her now; with a single touch the doors opened. She glanced round the inside of the hallway.

_You've let it slide again Jack. There's a lot of dust here_ she turned to the figure of Jack who had joined her in the hallway

_You need to keep it tidy and accessible you never know when you will need to refer back_ Jack nodded, saying nothing, but let her continue her search in peace.

_What are you actually looking for?_

_I need to know something_

_What?_

_How much you're infected. The Sightless left someone behind..._


	2. Chapter 2

She strolled into the kitchen and leaned against the table remembering. Something had been here, something she didn't understand "_If he fails, the world's we know will become as tormented as time. He knows he is missing time but he cannot remember why. We the Watchers have been time, and yet we NEED MORE TIME!" _she could remember the words shouted through her head when she had been trapped within the garden. She turned and looked at the table remembering the further conversation with whatever it was that made Jack… well Jack. For the first time she noticed the grain in the table, the unusual swirls picked out the words T.A.R.D.I.S Born.

She was about to ask about the words when something caught her eye, way back in the rear of the room there was a shadow, where no shadow should have been. The tiny shadow hissed and snarled at her, anger and hate in its countenance. She watched it, waiting for it to move. And in turn it watched her. After an age she turned back to Jack, satisfied that the thing would cause no problem.

_Watch this little one carefully. A little fear and hate is acceptable, even inevitable. But don't let it grow, as the sightless will consume you like a fire. You must keep a guard out for the dark within._

Jack nodded before turning away, he'd heard that before back in training.

_The garden is looking pretty this time._ He tried changing the subject.

_You're more relaxed; and for the moment accepting of your situation. _

_No. That is something I will never accept. I have to find the doctor, he be able to tell me what's wrong with me, he'll be able to cure me. _

She shook her head, _Don't expect miracles Jack. One day he'll come back and you will understand what and why you are. Let's go I've seen enough._

Jack winced as she broke the connection, not due to pain but by the thought of the loneliness. Despite their arguments, he knew she had always been there, even in his darkest times when he first came here. The knowledge that he wasn't alone had been deep seated and strangely comforting.

"I need a drink, so do you by the look of it" Her statement startled him out of his thoughts.

"I haven't had a drink for a couple of years" He replied. The thought of a pint of beer cheered him a little.

The cheer soon disappeared when she walked into a small tea shop.

"Tea." He said flatly "I thought you said you wanted a drink."

"Tea is a drink, beside they do nice cake here too." She nodded at the strangely familiar woman behind the counter before taking a seat in the dim light at the rear of the shop.

"Beside this is no ordinary tea."

Within 5 minutes two delicate bone china cups were placed on the table, along with a pretty teapot and a small jug of milk. A small plate of little cakes followed. Jack smiled up at the young woman who had placed them in front of him. As she blinked and smiled he caught the movement of a contact lense slipping back down to cover the narrow cats eye pupil in her left eye. He looked at Phire.

"You are not alone here Jack. This place is for people who have travelled a long way in both time and space. This shop, this city, in fact most of Wales is a haven for travellers who have reason they don't want to be found. There is a rift here, not far from this shop. Mainly it spits things, mechanical or organic out. Your little team collect and dissect and try to figure it out. Sometimes the rift can be ridden. These people here are waiting for that time, and when it comes, they disappear on it. If they are lucky it takes them back to a time when they were innocent of all crimes. If they are not, they come back here warped beyond comprehension, then it becomes a race between Torchwood and us to find them."

"What happens if we find them first?"

"We don't know, Dissection? Imprisonment? No one knows they are never seen again"

"And if you find them you look after them?" she shook her head

"I kill them"

~~oOo~~

Jack closed his eyes in disbelief and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to get a pounding headache. Deep in the corner of his mind the small insignificant darkness stretched an arm. It had syphoned its growing strength to the thing, making itself seem weak and vulnerable as she had studied it. Its time was coming, but it could wait a little longer, gather its strength, use him a little more until the thing was ready, then the earth would know him and burn.

~~oOo~~

"You kill them" He repeated flatly. "Why? What harm have they done?"

"It's not what they have done, it's what they are able to do. The rift is never kind. They come back for the most part insane. It's the kindest thing I can do here. There is nothing but a long lingering death for those the rift spits back. There is no technology here that can help them yet. It comes, eventually but not for hundreds of years. Until then I am the kindest thing they can face. Remember that this is only the start of the 20th century. The change hasn't happened yet."

He winced again and pinched the bridge of his nose again, this time harder. The headache was turning into a migraine. He felt sick, and disappointed. Her theory was sound, these victims were just as alien as him, as if they knew half of what he knew they could change time round and do an awful lot of damage.

"But they are still individuals, capable of free thought…"

"You were in Holding for a time yes? Do you remember the Charlemont? They were victims of the Rift after the chemists of Holding had helped them"

Jack shuddered and remembered:

**He was being held up between two Judoon, his feet couldn't touch the floor and he felt as week as a newborn kitten, but despite this he still made a scene. "You can't do this! It's got to be illegal, I have rights!" his voice echoed around the clinically white room. There was silence around the building, none of the inmates here had voices anymore. So much of their brains had been drugged back to insensibility. Blank faces stared at walls that were just as blank. The whole building felt like a morgue, but the corpses still lived.**

"**Shush Deoc. You're being over dramatic. You gave up your rights when you became an agent." A weedy voice, gloated in his ear. Jack stared furiously at the neat green Rehonti male who stood by a cold white table, fingering the multi-coloured vials that lay on the there.**

"**I need you to tell me what happened between '53 and '55 specifically on the Hamilton freighter."**

"**What? I was… I was ..." he faltered he could feel a panic rise in his chest he knew he'd been on a mission, but couldn't remember anything. He blustered, his words almost falling over each other in desperation to get out**

"**What the hell has that got to do with this? Why are the enforcers here? I have done nothing wrong, I followed orders" The Chemist looked at him sceptically, "**_**You **_**followed orders? You were creative, bloody minded, and have only ever followed orders that you liked." He nodded at the two Judoon who carried Jack to the chair in the centre of the room and despite their size placed him gently there holding him in place as the chemist prepared the binding. He thrashed about some more until he felt the pinprick of the syringe in the side of his neck. Despite the flight messages his brain was sending, his limbs stopped moving. He felt as though he'd been bound to the chair. Slowly the chair tilted placing him flat. A small machine hovered just above his chest, its beam of light covered his lung area. He could feel his breathing being controlled by the machine. He started to protest again when two massive paws held his head as another syringe pricked at his skin. Slowly all feeling left him rendering him locked in his own body, the only senses left was his hearing and his sight.**

"**Turn his head to the side, I don't want him to swallow his tongue."**

"**It would be quieter if he did" One of the Judoon rumbled back**

"**He'd also be dead and Lord Velon or the Director don't want that in any form. He's been rather useful"**

"**Was it him then? Is he the one that…"**

**The chemist cut the Judoon off "yes all that and more"**

"**Then why are we doing this?"**

"**Instructions. You don't question the director, you just do it. Pass me the purple vial, this will seal what we've already done in there. Boshane crossbreeds have delicate brains. I have to ensure the neurons wont rejoin. If he remembers any part of that time we are all seriously frecked out. Velon and the director will be the first on his list."**

**The door swung open and in his prone position Jack could see two figures come into the room. The chemist stood to attention before being called over. Jack could hear whispering then both the chemist and the Judoon left. **

**Unable to move his head he could only see their lower bodies but he recognised their voices first, then the swirl of an overcoat. Lord Velon and the breather mask covering the director's face came into view. **

"**Can he remember it?" the rough voice of Lord Velon asked. The director shook his head. "Its hidden in there, so deep it won't be found."**

**Velon looked directly at Jack. "Thank you. You will never know what you have done but the children of time thank you from the bottom of their hearts" Velon looked at the director, "Do the children have hearts?" **

**The director shrugged "I was told to forget so I did" Velon looked back at Jack**

"**But because of you the days of the agency have to be numbered. Be thankful you will never know the reason." Velon stood to leave.**

"**I need a moment with him alone my lord". Velon nodded before leaving. The director closed the blind on the small window, and turned down the oxygen concentration in the room.**

**He dragged a chair over so he could be level with Jack. "He is wrong Jack, one day you will know exactly what this day is about, and you will prey to the gods that you are doing the right thing."**

**He reached up to his mask and unclipped it. "The air in here is toxic to me now, thousands of missions over the years have brought their own revenge to me, but I suppose that doing this will help you though those dark days. It's a shame that you will only remember once she's dead." The director picked up a blue vial and pressed it against Jacks neck, slowly the blue liquid forced itself into him.**

**Jack could do nothing, his body refused to act to the demands his brain made, he was forced to watch as the director removed the mask revealing who he was.**

Jack shuddered again from the memory of the Charlemont. He could only remember the director unclipping the mask. Nothing else. He was going to be honoured and shown who the director actually was, and the memory of it was gone, that and two whole years of his life. His life before the whole of this curse came to land at his feet.

"I see" he told Phire, even though he didn't really. He caught the eye of a small blond child looking through the window at him. She reminded him of someone. Her eyes were serious and dark. She wore the pretty dress uncomfortably, that much was obvious to him. Then she smiled and turned away. They carried on sitting quietly drinking tea and watching the world, innocent in its assumptions of confidence, turn.

* * *

AN: thank you bwb and also starkyack, Your reviews helped warp the old grey cells in the right direction.

All errors are my own, as this as not been beta'd just foisted on the old professor herb. Jack belongs to the BBC, but everyone else here is mine all mine **insert manic laugh here***


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